


Intention

by Thewindowishhare



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: ? - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Cliche, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Tagging, Manipulative Relationship, Maybe - Freeform, Out of Character, Possessive Behavior, Rating May Change, Science, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 11:39:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16701835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thewindowishhare/pseuds/Thewindowishhare
Summary: In which Hermione goes back in time with the most powerful wand to ever exist with the purpose of giving her friends a better chance at life. Well, that was the intent at least...





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Dear Lord, what on earth am I getting myself into? I have read so many gosh diddly darn Tomione fics that I literally need to write one now. Will the rating change? Who knows! God, this is going to be a mistake, but hopefully the reader will enjoy my mistakes. Obvious time travelling AU is obvious. AU from fifth book and onwards- (may include convenient plot). Possible bad plot, bad grammar, OOC (though I try my best not to allow that), and also theories about the structure of time. This is a mess just waiting to occur- Feel free to give constructive criticism!!! :) (P.S. I promise the other chapters are not as bad as this first one...)

Many were more suited for the mission, she would not disagree with that. The thing is, who else was there to take the job?

_No one… they’re all busy doing actually productive things..._ Hermione thought dreadfully. Sitting at the lavish, wooden table, her fingers drummed upon the surface in a certain pattern that showed her unusual anxiety. Surrounding her were the various members of the Order of the Phoenix, though the group lacked a certain Boy-Who-Lived and two young gingers. All eyes were on her while she sat, practically glaring at the wooden furnishing before her. The pattern of her fingers was interrupted by the soft voice of Molly Weasley,

“Look, we want you to know that we would never want to put you through any harm…” at which Hermione scoffed. No harm? A ridiculous notion considering what this meeting was about.  
“Ah. yes. So let’s just place me in the backlines for a back-up mission that probably won’t even work instead of having me do something productive!”, Hermione voiced her distaste at the older woman attempting to comfort her, crossing her arms in the process. No words were uttered after Hermione’s outburst; the only notable noises were coming from Sirius’ mother’s portrait as she seemed to have been awoken by Hermione's yelling. The creaking of Grimmauld place also making up for the lack of dialogue among the members. It was not until Snape spoke up for the first time the entire meeting, 

“Might I remind you that you were the one who insisted upon helping your friends by joining the Order? Or did you conveniently forget that the Order is fighting in a war against one of the greatest and darkest wizards of all times? Did it happen to slip your mind that by helping your friends you would have to participate in such a travesty?”.

“How could I possibly forget such a detail when a certain greasy scoundrel who has no right in jutting his abnormally large nose into my business keeps reminding me of it.” Hermione punctuated the insult with a scoff and a mocking roll of her eyes. Snape only responded with a strong glare as he absmilly rearranged the flaps of his robes. Dumbledore held up one hand to silence any possible retorts from the potions master, then peaked over his half-moon glasses as he glanced at Hermione.

“Now, Miss Granger, I understand your qualms with the situation and I understand that you wish to help your friends, but I cannot risk your life by putting you in what you deem a more productive position. What do you think would occur if the Order happened to lose such a smart young lady? How might her friends react?” Hermione softened her gaze at the table as she thought of the consequences involving her death. She was not quite sure if her death would either destroy them to the point that they could not continue on or if it would give them the strength to defeat He-Who-Must-Not-be-Named.

“Suppose that I do understand these points, Professor, are we certain this plan would even work? Has it ever been attempted before?”

“I am certain that you will be taken to the time that you believe was the Order’s downfall. Magic relies on intention, the wand is evidence of such. I have no doubts that when the time comes that you will report to me and the deed will be done. You will go back in time that marks the beginnings of our side losing in this war and you will describe to us the necessary precautions to avoid such. In the meantime you will make note of any big moves we make or the enemy makes so we have a timeline to determine what our weakest point was.”

“If that even occurs.” Hermione added.

“Yes, if it even occurs.” Dumbledore agreed, his eyes twinkling like the sparkles that flourished his midnight robes.

“But Sir, I really can’t help but feel that… messing with time is not such a good idea, or if it would even work… the time in third year, it seemed as if it was supposed to occur, that’s why Harry and I saw the unexplainable deer, because it was actually him...do you not believe that if I were meant to go back and change things that we would have already begun to see unexplainable signs just as I had then…?” Dumbledore smiled, a very small twinge of the muscles around his mouth as he spoke,

“Perhaps we already have, yet we are too bothered with the present to notice the future.” 

...

That happened before the beginning of the Golden Trio’s fifth year at Hogwarts. Many times Hermione debated confronting Dumbledore on going back in time, especially after the attack at the Ministry. Yet, she did not do this. She had felt something coming, and saved the trip for a different time: a time she believed would be the downfall of the Order. She was constantly on edge all the time and her anxiety only grew worse as fifth year ended and sixth year began. Even the idle chat among her Gryffindor pals could never break her away from her constant anxiety of when she should act upon her mission,

“And then my toad ate the homework that Snape had assigned over the summer break…”.

“That’s...nice, Neville.” Harry and Ron said in unison.

“At least we won’t be having Snape for potions this year anyway.” Ginny added as she consumed a piece of steak, thanks to the Hogwarts’ feast at the beginning of every new term. At this news, Neville seemed to perk up.

“Yeah, I recall hearing about that now. My grandmother was rambling on about how it was her old professor who would be teaching us. That was such an odd day…” Neville trailed off.

“Oh? How so?” Hermione investigated. Neville turned to her, seemingly shocked by the fact that she had finally chosen to speak to the group for the first time that evening.

“Uh, well, it actually has to deal with a question that I wanted to ask you, Hermione.” he stated as he glanced away from her being. More intrigued than before, Hermione continued,

“Go ahead, ask as you please.”

“I know that you said your parents are Muggles, but do you happen to know if any other relative of yours are a witch? Maybe, older relatives like a grandparent or something?”. Hermione was a little bit more than confused by his words.

“As far as I am aware I am the only witch in the family. How exactly does this relate to how weird that one day during summer break was?”. Neville was startled by Hermione’s inquisitive and tense tone.

“Relax, ‘Mione, you’ve got the boy all distraught with how you’re being.” Ron butted in before Neville could give his reply. Hermione tutted at Ron’s behavior,

“No one asked you, Ron.”

“A-anyways, my grandmother had asked me to clean out some her old belongings...it was mostly peculiar looking hats and purses, but there was a picture in there. It was of two girls in Gryffindor robes, they were smiling and hugging, I don’t actually think I’ve seen any photos of my grandmother not looking so stern before. The other girl though, Merlin’s beard, Hermione, it looked just like you, s-so I thought I’d ask-.”

“And what he means by that is his blood-traitor of a grandmother was friends with an ugly Mudblood.” a snooty voice filled with arrogance interrupted the conversation.  
“Get out of here Malfoy, we were actually having a decent conversation before you showed up.”

“Just felt the need to clarify Longbottom's words for the Mudblood over here, Potter.” Draco spat the latter surname viciously.

“Just as how Hermione clarified the fact that you’re a lonesome, evil cockroach during third year?” Ron defended. Draco sneered in his direction and walked away towards what the others believed to be the way to the dungeons.

“Honestly, the nerve of him…” Hermione muttered. 

The next morning came as Hermione and the others made their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast. For once, Hermione had relaxed for a bit and thought of something besides the potential mission, that being when she might be able to hex Draco Malfoy without getting caught. She proudly remembers the time that Ron had brought up yesterday, in which she punched Draco and made his nose bleed.

“Hermione, are you alright? You haven’t touched a spec of your breakfast.” a concerned voice had asked.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine, Ginny. Thank you for your concern.”. Evidently, Hermione seemed to have been carried away and had gone to far into her fantasy involving Draco being turned into a ferret, just as in fourth year.

_Just as a Death Eater had infiltrated the school and turned him into a ferret…_ Hermione thought as she poked at the now cold oatmeal bestowed upon her by the House Elves from the kitchens, her face now possessed by a solemn look.

“Hermione, it’s about time to head to potions, wouldn’t you say?” Harry inquired, dark tufts of hair poking out of his head in various directions. Hermione did not ask the time and only simply nodded in agreement as she gathered her things and set off in the same direction as Harry. 

“Welcome to N.E.W.T. level potions, my scholars!” An elderly man announced in a giddy tone. He clapped his hands together as he gazed upon the small sea of students at the different wooden tables that littered the dungeon classroom. As his eyes washed over them, his gaze seemed to stall as they brushed over Harry Potter, a detail that went unnoticed by most. Hermione had expected it as she recalled Harry telling her about how they found Hogwarts’ new Potions Master, Horace Slughorn.

“Now, is everyone present? Allow me to just go through the list real quick…” The dungeon walls echoed the names back to Slughorn as he checked the attendance. A wink was thrown Harry’s way when his name was announced, which this time went unnoticed, particularly by Draco’s gang of malevolent Slytherins who sniggered when they saw. Harry let out a deep sigh which seemed to be a good enough reply for Slughorn as he moved further along the list.

“Miss Granger?”, Slughorn looked up expectantly.

“Present, Professor.”. The potions professor tracked where the voice had came from and for the briefest moments seemed troubled.

“Ah, yes, naturally, naturally.” he muttered to himself as he placed a check mark next to the Gryffindor girl’s name. He straightened himself as he placed his papers on his extravagant, walnut desk.

“I believe it’s time to begin class, yes?”

...

Of course she would remember those moments now, of all times. She was outside in the courtyard when it happened, it felt like the most intense nightmare she had ever experienced as she watched her headmaster’s body fall from the monolithic height of the astronomy tower. The Dark Mark soared through the sky as the snake pictured in it slithered out of the skull’s mouth, a sign from Voldemort’s followers that Dumbledore had been vanquished. Hermione blocked out all of the screams she heard from fellow peers as she ran to the Headmaster’s office. Hyperventilating, she continued at a quick pace up the many stairs that belonged in Hogwarts, almost running past the statue that blocked unwanted visitors from entering the Headmaster’s office.

“Lemon drop!” Hermione yelled at the gargoyle before her, yet to no avail, the statue did not allow her to enter. She let out a frustrated noise, naming every sort of candy she could conjure in her mind. Defeated, she allowed her back to slide down the front of the statue as she placed her hands in her curly hair.

“This most definitely not part of the plan, how am I supposed to… ugh!” she slammed her head back into the marble in clear anguish.

“Yeah, this sure is productive! How in the bloody hell am I supposed to go back in time when Dumbledore is dead? This must be the downfall of the Order…” softly, she wept. Her cries were not in vain though as after her fears were expressed, the statue moved. Not questioning it, she quickly ran into the room, frantically looking for the wand. She tore drawers off their slides as she began her scavenger hunt for the Elder Wand.

“Dumbledore dying was really not part of the plan.” she muttered to herself as she panicked about. She lifted up the red rugs that were adorned with intricate patterns that she simply had no time to admire. It was when she looked towards the large window on the wall opposite to her did she see that it was open, the red velvet curtains flowing as the harsh wind assaulted them. Fawkes was perched on the windowsill, his red and gold feathers glittering in what little light was prevalent in the mostly cloudy sky.

“Fawkes, Fawkes, please, you have to help me...I don’t know what to do…” she sobbed as she approached the mystical bird. Just as she was less than a meter away, it dived out the window, out of her reach. In reaction, Hermione stared blankly and in disbelief at its retreating form, void of all hope. She fell into Dumbledore’s chair, slouching far back as she tried thinking of what to do.

“That’s it. That’s all I had. Those Death Eaters have no idea what they just did…” Hermione trailed off, her tone changing from desperate to infuriated within the progression of her sentence.

“Voldemort is going to rue the day he was even born. He’s going to regret the first war he started, not to mention the second. He won’t win, I won’t allow it. He took my chance to help and so I’ll make a new chance, for my friends...so I can save them…” she stomped toward the exist, new plan on dedicating her entire life to the war effort already being formulated. Her thoughts were soon interrupted by a squawk. She instantly turned back towards the window as she saw the same mystic bird that was there beforehand, this time with a long, wooden structure being held in its beak. Within seconds she crossed the room and hugged the bird as she grabbed the Elder Wand from Fawkes’ beak.

“Thank you Fawkes, I’m sorry for ever doubting you…” she said smiling as salty tears still graced her flushed cheeks.

“Now if only I knew how to do what I’m supposed to…” Hermione said as she sat back down in Dumbledore’s plush chair, her curls bouncing around her as she rested, staring intently on what she knew to be the most powerful wand in existence. She had not even noticed the new presence in the room as she was too hypnotized by the wand and the power that seemed to pulsate around it.

“Do you really believe that was the downfall of the Order?” a snarky, nasally voice broke her fascination with the wand. Her concentration was placed on her old potions professor as she glared at him.

“ Does it matter to you? I’m certain it was you up there who casted the curse, you should be ashamed of yourself, Severus.”

“And you should consider all of the possibilities that would truly be the downfall of the Order.”

“I am more than certain that our leader dying is more enough reason to consider this moment the failure of the Order. You should hope that I don’t go back in time to the moment you were born, preventing that would definitely prevent the Order’s downfall.” she sneered at the man.

“And our leader should have chosen a better candidate to go back and change things if the situation would arise. Certainly not an emotional young girl who accuses anyone in the proximity of treachery.”

“Perhaps our leader should have chosen a more reliable agent who wouldn’t have killed him!” Hermione spat.

_After all these years Dumbledore urged us to trust him...to see him on the tower with those maniacs..._

“Perhaps everyone is at fault here and so we need to resolve the situation. Granger, you have a mission to complete and I recommend doing it now.” Snape turned and walked towards the exit. Hermione picked up the Elder Wand in her dominant hand and shot a nasty curse his way. The curse shot through the wall, leaving a monumental hole in the stone, just shy of a meter from Snape’s person. He slowly turned his head toward the heavily breathing girl,

“Thank you for assisting me with the exit, Miss Granger, and good luck.” 

With the traitorous distraction gone, Hermione was allowed to focus on her mission. 

“Intention is the cause behind all magic, intention is the cause behind all magic…” she repeated as she thought of what was most definitely the Order’s weakness, flashes of Dumbledore dying, Snape revealing his Dark Mark, and the attack on the Ministry presented themselves to her as she thought,

_Intention is the cause of all magic..._


	2. Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hermione realizes intent is relative and so is time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Screeeeee this is bad.

 

After focusing on using the magic that pulsated from the Elder Wand to go back in time, Hermione opened her soft brown eyes. She did not recognized the room around her, she was still in a large room that could have resembled her Headmaster’s office, she almost believed that nothing had changed, though, the absence of the eccentric decorations Dumbledore adored told her otherwise. Slight panic coursed through her because of the unfamiliar environment, but perhaps she just appeared in a different room. No other inhabitant was present in the room, or at least to Hermione’s knowledge. 

The bushy haired girl did not to act upon her threat against Snape, deciding not to waste the Wand’s energy to remove his birth from the timeline; instead, if all had gone with her intentions, she should be at the beginning of her fourth year at Hogwarts. During the gap between receiving the mission from the Order and up until the moment she had to act upon it, she considered what time she should travel to. Originally, the bookworm had deduced that her third year of education had the potential to save a lot of trouble for the Order. Specifically if she just allowed Crookshanks to eat Peter while he had been in his animagus form…

Unfortunately, she highly doubted it could be justified to Ron; this doubt arose from the fact Ron had disowned her as a friend for even allowing Crookshanks near his rat.

Which led to the next potential year. A plethora of circumstances happened during the Trio’s fourth year at Hogwarts, many in which Hermione believed she could prevent if she could just warn Dumbledore about Crouch’s son, the portkey, and more… 

_ Perhaps I could also add a bit of advice on keeping a close eye on Snape… _

 

Hours passed, yet Hermione still had not witnessed the appearance of Professor Dumbledore. Anxiously she would tap her foot while waiting in the chair opposite to the Headmaster’s. Long beforehand, she decided it best to conceal the Elder Wand away from other’s field of vision, just as a precaution. Suddenly, the sound of the statue moving from its usual position caused Hermione to jump in her seat. She quickly face the entrance, but to her shock, the recipetent of her astonished stare reciprocated the look. 

_ No.  _

_ “ _ P-Pardon me, Miss, I was not anticipating any visitors, the school term does not start for another few days or so. I most certainly had not expected a student to appear in my office, how might have you gotten in? I sure do hope I have not been trusting my passwords with the wrong group again…” the last part was muffled as if the man had been speaking to himself, but Hermione could still understand his words. 

_ This can’t be right.  _

With a sigh, the elderly, balding man continued,

“I hope you find it not prudent of me, but I must acquire your name, Miss.” he walked over to his large chair, replacing the hat that had fallen off his head when he entered the room, an occurrence Hermione assumed happened due to sudden shock.

_ I definitely understand what shock feels like exactly… _

Inwardly, Hermione was having a meltdown. Magic is based off the intent of the user, she had intended to go back to her fourth year at Hogwarts, simple as that. That was the plan. 

_ This was definitely not what I intended.  _

With a minute gasp extricated from the man in front of her, he voiced his concerns,

“Where are my manners! You would think after eighteen years of being Headmaster I would know to introduce myself. Armando Dippet, the Headmaster of this fine institution known as Hogwarts.” the man that Hermione now classified as Headmaster Dippet punctuated his statement with a solemn smile.

_ Definitely not what I intended. Great to know that I could be anywhere in time between the early 1920’s, and the 1970’s.  _

Hermione’s train of thought was interrupted by Headmaster Dippet looking expectantly at her.

_ He said eighteen years of his occupation. Assuming he claimed the position immediately after Phineas then this is 1942. Definitely not what I had intended.  _

_ “ _ My name is Hermione Gr-” a forced choke prevented her from continuing the sentence, she covered up the instance with an evidently fake cough. Armando casted a curious glance towards the girl he was interrogating.

_ Have I lost my mind! I cannot exist during this time as myself! It would have been fine if this was Dumbledore from my era, he would have expected me, but this is not the case anymore! _

“Griffin. Hermione Griffin.” inwardly, Hermione was appalled by the name she created for herself. She wished dearly to just admit defeat and slam her head into the desk before her, 

_ Oh, great one Hermione, that’ll dupe them. A Gryffindor named Griffin, I’m supposed to be clever! _

_ “ _ Miss Griffin, may I ask what you are wearing and how you came to be here?”, there was no other emotion prevalent in his voice besides curiosity, and if one decided to listen extraordinary intently, perhaps a touch of concern. Hermione was reminded of her outdated attire, 

_ Even better! Nothing like a girl wearing a bright pink jacket as well as a pair of jeans to top off the totally-not-suspicious act of a girl showing up in the Headmaster's office without invite! _

_ “ _ A spell went wrong when trying to configure my robes into something more discreet. Evidently, you can notice that had not gone as I intended in my panicked state”, she replied sheepishly. 

“And why might you have been in this panicked state?”,Perhaps Hermione had been wrong to judge the man based off their very first interaction as he seemed rather aloof. The man was now staring at her sternly, his elbows resting on the mahogany desk as his hand folded over one another, supporting his head. 

_ Time to summon the best story I can muster. _

_ “ _ Well, you see, Sir, I come from a family that happens to be close to the Dumbledore’s. I have been privately raised and educated in the countryside of Wales.” he gave her a swift motion of his hand to gesture for her to continue,

“My parents, they had arranged a deal with Professor Dumbledore that if any harm would happen to our family, that I would be taken care of him. I had assumed that he had been the Headmaster by the air he carried around him, so I apologize for appearing in your office, Professor Dippet.” 

“You mentioned this would have only happened if your family had been in harm’s way, could you indulge me of the details of such?”

“Grindelwald, Sir.” Armando Dippet outwardly shivered slightly at the mention of the dark wizard,

“Yes, I completely understand now. I assume you would like to see your new caretaker now?” Hermione weakly nodded in agreement, standing up and following her new headmaster out of his office, through the ceaseless corridors belonging to the castle. They duo passed several portraits that Hermione had not recognized, in addition to the ones that she deemed to be missing from the expansive collection. They approached an old wooden door, the hinges seemingly fallinging off the hinges. The need for the door to be replaced was expressed as Dippet knocked on the door in a peculiar pattern in various spots of the door, the door creaking as the assault on the wooden barrier occurred. After the ritual had seemingly come to and end, Professor Dippet whispered something to the door that caused it to open. 

Inside of the room was much more different in comparison to the rickety, old door that led into it. The room was decorated in a deep red, the Gryffindor House lion displayed frequently throughout the room. A large bird cage accompanied the various papers strewn across the table top of oak, a cage Hermione assumed held Fawkes, the phoenix that helped her acquire the Elder Wand after her Headmaster’s death. As if on cue, Fawkes made his presence known to all of those within the room by squawking loudly from the top of a cabinet. It is very much possible, Hermione admitted, that what she saw could have been a figment of her imagination, but she could have sworn that Fawkes cheekily winked at Hermione. 

“What do I owe the owner for you to grace me with your presence, Armando?” a familiar voice rang out through the room as a certain auburn haired wizard walked towards the duo, his vibrant orange robes trailing behind him as he made his way across the stone floor. 

“I have been informed of this young lady’s situati-” the present headmaster had been interrupted as Hermione flung herself onto Dumbledore in an embrace. 

“You have absolutely no idea how glad I am to see you, Sir.” Hermione said sadly as she continued to hug Professor Dumbledore,

“Right you are, young Miss, I truly have no idea.” he replied. He gave Armando a knowing nod that was interpreted as a cue to leave, Hermione and Dumbledore being the only one remaining in the room. 

Hermione finally let go, backing away from the significantly younger version of the Dumbledore she knew, wiping a few stray tears that flowed as she did so. 

“You have much explaining to do, young Miss.” Dumbledore stated as he glanced over his half moon glasses, an oh so familiar twinkle appearing in his eyes.

“Please, Sir, you may address me as Hermione Granger.” 

 

“A dark wizard made you flee?”, Dumbledore had questioned.

“Yes, a very dark one, arguably the darkest of them all.” at this, Dumbledore seemed to be in deep thought, Hermione knew very well as to why.

“And the death of a loved one caused you to take action?” 

“Yes, my family relied on him. His death urged panic within me and so I fled before I could be harmed.” she thought of Ron, Harry, and the others when she mentioned her family.

“Might I ask if your family is still in potential harm?” Hermione thought of the future, of what she left behind after the words exited Dumbledore’s mouth.

“I’m not certain. But if goes as intended, then no, they will be safe.” 

“Many things rely on intent, Miss Griffin.”

“I am aware, a very wise man once informed me of such.”

“Was he the man whom your family relied upon?”

“Yes.”

“He must have had a great impact on you then.”

“Indeed.” Hermione verbalized in agreement with Dumbledore’s notion, though she was not sure if she could agree on necessarily a positive or negative impact.

With a soft grunt, Dumbledore stood up from his comfortable chair, stretching his limbs in the process,

“I believe I have questioned you far enough for a young girl who has suffered a serious loss. Please, as your new caretaker, come to me if you require anything. For now I will send you back to Headmaster Dippet along with a lemon drop for your troubles.” Dumbledore declared as he dropped one of the candies in Hermione’s palm.

“Thank you, Sir. I appreciate much of what you have done for me.” 

“Of course, Miss Granger.”

 

Hermione made her way back to the Headmaster’s office, the statue guarding the entrance moving aside as soon as she walked in front of it. She popped the lemon drop she had been holding into her mouth before she waltzed in, yet again meeting Dippet’s eyes. 

“Glad to have you back, Miss Griffin, I do hope all went well?” he asked in a genuinely concerning voice. Hermione nodded in response as she stood, awaiting for what she knew was going to be her sorting. 

“Did Professor Dumbledore inform you of how his school is run?” Hermione nodded yet again, even if it had not been true.

“Right. Now I will ask you to sit on this stool and wear this hat- no worries, it has a mouth to talk with, but it does not bite.” he said in an attempt to break the goomy atmosphere of the room. Hermione sat on the stool for the second time in her life.

_ Or I suppose this may technically be my first… _

_ Oh? How curious. What do you mean be that darling?  _ Hermione outwardly sighed as the hat began to communicate with her, Armando giving her a small, knowing smile.

_ Can we just sort me already?  _ Hermione though impatiently.

_ I do not believe I have encountered a young girl with such a lack of manners before, such bravery that takes-. _

_ Yes, I am aware I am brave, I already know I am a Gryffindor. _

_ Ah, but your statement from the beginning says otherwise, especially with the way you responded. Do you enjoy making riddles for others to solve? I am most certainly intrigued by your riddles.  _

_ Enough nonsense, you debated putting me in Ravenclaw before, yet ultimately made the decision in favor of Gryffindor. _

_ Have I now? _

_ Yes, so let us save the time and simply proceed with being a Gryffindor student. _

_ Ah, but what if that is incorrect this time around? People change. And how good would I be at my job if I do not properly place students? _

_ Believe me when I say people do not change as much as you believe.  _ Hermione had several faces pop into her mind as she thought of this.

_ Hm, you may believe that, but your existence proves otherwise. You seem to be here on a mission, yes? _

_ Perhaps. _

_ How curious indeed! You are immensely devoted to this cause it seems, would you not agree that could classify as ambitious of you? _

_ Place me in that snake pit and the next headline in the  _ _ Daily Prophet  _ _  will be about how the sorting hat was mysteriously eaten by the giant squid. _

_ Definitely not Hufflepuff. _

_ Gryffindor. _

_ Siiiiiiigh, I suppose you are right, but if another time does occur as you say it will, I will be sure to consider the options more closely. Perhaps I will make my song specifically about hatstalls and students with traits of various houses.  _

The hat announced Gryffindor, and with that Hermione took off the offending article of clothing. Armando conjured her some Gryffindor robes and the various supplies she would need for her sixth year at Hogwarts. 


	3. Introductions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hermione meets some people from the future. Or is it the past? Time is relative.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise Tom will actually be in the next chapter, this is just world building and such!!! stay strong readers, I know it's dry.

 

Hermione walked through the halls of Hogwarts, her steps echoing against the stones that made the walls. She had been given permission to travel to the Gryffindor tower since she had nowhere to actually go. Dumbledore had given her rather detailed instructions on how to arrive at her destination, though she did not need them.

_ Not that Dumbledore really needs to know that... _

Hermione stopped at the portrait that led to her house, the woman depicted in it snoring obnoxiously. Hermione gave a knock to the frame of the portrait to wake up the woman, yet she did not cease sleeping. With more vigor, Hermione knocked again, successfully gaining the woman’s attention,

“Students are not supposed to arrive until tomorrow night! How dare you disrupt my beauty sleep!” Hermione rolled her eyes at the proclamation the Fat Lady said. 

“Traitorous barnacles.”

The Fat Lady gave a huff, but allowed the Granger girl to slide through. Hermione took in her surroundings, a sense of calm washing over her as the familiarity comforted her. Minute aspects of the circular room were different, but squashy armchairs and worn out tables still occupied the room; just as they would in the future. With her feet padding against the various plush rugs scattered across the floor, Hermione made her way up the stairs to the female dormitories. She scoured the the long corridor until she found the sixth year dorms, in which she entered and placed what little belongings she had by the bed closest to the door. Fortunately, Hermione had her enchanted bag with her still and so she still possessed many items that she had in 1995. Hermione flopped onto the large bed an exasperated sigh leaving her lips.

“What in the actual hell am I supposed to do.” she thought aloud. 

Running her hands over her face, Hermione attempted to summon thoughts to her brain about how to solve the issue at hand.

“The Elder Wand will understand me, he said, it won’t misinterpret your intentions, he said.” Hermione voiced in a mocking tone, huffing at the end to accentuate her distaste. She peered over to one of the windows within the room, noting how night had snuck up on her. 

_ Might as well sleep, I have suffered enough today… _

And with that, the heroine’s thoughts came to a rest as did the rest of her body.

 

Sunlight passed through the glass of the castle windows, alerting Hermione that a new day had started, a day in which she would have to confront all of the new incoming students that will more than likely bombard her with questions. Inwardly, Hermione groaned as she had suffered a lot and did not wish to talk to others about it. Especially strangers.  Deciding it was for the best, Hermione laid back down in her four poster bed and drifted away into a peaceful slumber so she could have enough energy for when the students arrive. 

 

“WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN THE GRYFFINDOR DORMS?”.

Hermione woke instantly as the sound of screeching filtered its way into her ears. She felt the jab of a wooden stick in her side causing her to fall off the bed. With a yelp, Hermione landed on the ground with a thud. She gazed up at the disturber of her peace who had the wooden end of a Quidditch broom pointed at her in an offensive manner. A girl, most likely around Hermione’s age as she had assumed, kept her eyes on the girl on the floor in front of her. Her black hair went slightly past her shoulders, but most of all her green eyes reminded Hermione of a certain friend of her own. 

“I’m Hermione G-Griffin. New student, kind of came here yesterday. If it’s too much to ask, can you please remove that broom from my face, it is making me rather nervous.”, Hermione belted out. 

The stern looking female lowered the sports apparatus,

“One would think someone would inform the head girl of such an occurrence, the old fool is probably getting a kick out of this…”, her expression turned from stern to only a little bit less offensive.

“Well, Griffin, I apologize for us having to meet under such unfortunate circumstances. I am the Head Girl of Hogwarts, Minerva McGonagall.”.

Minerva offered a hand to Hermione in which the bushy haired witch promptly took.

“No, it’s completely alright by me, I understand you have duties with your position.” Minerva gave a small smile to Hermione’s reply.

“Lovely. Now, we should be going, the ceremony will be starting soon. I presume by your presence in this dorm means that you have been sorted already?”, Hermione nodded after the question was asked.

“How nice of Headmaster Dippet. The last new student was forced to be sorted with the first years. Very humiliating for him.” Minerva finished and the duo made their way down to the Great Hall.

 

As the two arrived at the large wooden doors, a mass of students were filing in along with them. Conversations could be heard amongst friends filling in what their holiday had been like for one another. The Great Hall was gavantly decorated with candles flying above the students and the ceiling twinkling as if there was no ceiling at all, stars displaying themselves to the inhabitants of Hogwarts. Minerva and Hermione made their way to the Gryffindor table, Hermione taking note of the neighboring table which happened to be the Slytherin table; evidently a poor choice made by the staff.

“This is the Great Hall, Hermione, this is where we consume our meals for the day as well as hold important announcements. Though, those announcements are usually made during mealtime anyways.” Minerva explained to the newly arrived witch as the couple took their seats on the Gryffindor bench. Hermione could hear the chatter coming from the Slytherin table behind her,

“Wow, Tom! Where’d you get that ring? I never saw it last year.” said a male voice.

“If you must know, Avery, I recently got it over the holiday. It happens to be an heirloom.” said a boy whom Hermione presumed was a boy named Tom. 

“How lucky of you, all I got over break was my parents yelling at me about my grades.” a much deeper voice spoke.

“Perhaps, Dolohov, you should have taken more care in your learning career.” 

The conversation seemed to cease as the Great Hall was shushed by Headmaster Dippet who welcomed the returning students to their new year at Hogwarts, afterwards then welcoming in the first year students as the lot of them were led from the giant wooden doors to the front by Professor Dumbledore. The sorting of the first years began as Armando Dippet called out the name of the first student; oddly enough, only about ten more followed after, a small class of first years seemed odd to the bright witch. 

Looking around, Hermione noticed that only her and Minerva seemed to be listening to the headmaster’s words, everyone else had decided to continue the conversations they had before the beginning of the speech in hushed tones. The bushy haired witch attempted to focus back on her new headmaster’s expectations of the school year to avoid her feelings of panic of being in a different era. Her attention however was swept away by harsh whispers coming from the table behind her.

_ Naturally, Slytherins only possess manners when in front of authorities and attempting to kiss their arse… _ Hermione thought herself, attempting to drown out their rather loud muttering with her own thoughts. A futile effort.

“Has that Gryfindor girl ever taken a brush to her hair? It’s bloody atrocious…” a masculine voice sounded off as his friends snickered in response. Hermione did nothing to react to it, she was well acquainted with such comments in her own time. 

“Who is she anyway? I don’t recall her from last year…” a male inquired accompanied by more snickering behind her. 

_ Whoever thought placing the Slytherin table next to the Gryffindor table was a wise idea should reconsider their common sense... _

 

The speech ended soon after the last comment was made. Luxurious, tantalizing food appeared across the monolithic tables as the students feasted upon the goods. The staff, too, partook in the great feast. Hermione’s attention drifted to the staff table. She took note of all the people she vaguely remembered from her previous school years, however it was quite difficult since their appearances were much more youthful than when she had encountered them. One in particular…

“Oh, Griffin, what are you looking at?” Minerva asked as she took a break from her food. Hermione gestured towards the staff table as a reply.

“Oh yes, that is the staff table. Mostly teachers, you’ll meet them quite soon enough. I’m certain you already met the Headmaster. You most likely have not encountered Hagrid yet-”

“And probably for the better!” a thick Scottish accent interrupted.

“Augusta! You know those were just rumors…” Minerva replied. Hermione figured out pretty quickly about the topic of conversation.

“Are you guys talking about the Chamber of Secrets?” Hermione asked. The two girls faced Hermione with minor confusion. Minerva cleared her throat as she continued,

“You know about it?” 

_ Oh, Hermione, you dolt! I am definitely not supposed to know about that! _

“Oh, yes, you see, my family is in close relations to Professor Dumbledore and he talked about it during a visit once.” Understanding washed over the girl’s faces as Minerva carried on,

“That makes sense. In my personal opinion, I think he was innocent.”

“Oh, please! You only think he’s innocent because Professor Dumbledore thinks just the same.” Augusta rebutted.

“Augusta, it is completely normal to admire one’s capabilities as a strong wizard and to acknowledge his opinion as wise.” Hermione knew that this was only half of the truth as a light rose dusted her old Transfiguration teacher’s cheeks.

The conversation ended there and the trio got up from the bench as the feast ended.

“I must direct the prefects, I shall meet you two in the common room. Augusta, make sure Griffin does not lose her way!” the stern young lady walked hastily away, determined to fulfil her duties properly. The remaining duo made their way silently to the entrance of the common room. That silence was soon broken however,

“I suppose I never properly introduced myself. My name is Augusta Longbottom.” the brown haired girl stated.

“And I am Hermione Griffin.” The bushy-haired witch replied.

“Since Minerva will most likely be busy tomorrow with Head Girl shenanigans, would you like me to give you a tour of the castle?” said the Scottish voice as they continued their walk to the Gryffindor common room. Hermione’s first instinct was to decline the generous offer, however she has already made herself seem suspicious enough by knowing the details of the Chamber of Secrets incident.

“That would be splendid! Thank you for the offer.” Hermione gave smile to Scottish girl. Augusta gave a curt nod as a way of confirmation. The pair stepped through the portrait hole and headed to the sixth year dorm rooms.

“Longbottom, how do you and McGonagall know each other so well if the two of you are in separate years?” Hermione inquired as Augusta settled her things into the bed beside Hermione’s. 

“We both have an affinity for Transfiguration. However, I just simply enjoy it because I’m rather skilled at it, Minerva on the other hand really enjoys the Professor. In an admiration sort of way, but it makes you wonder…”. Augusta faced Hermione suddenly,

“Don’t tell her I told you that though, she’ll beat me with her Quidditch broom and that bloody hurts.” She grimaced at what Hermione assumed was a memory resurfacing. The Longbottom shook her head as she continued,

“She’s one of the few females at this school that don’t absolutely fawn over the Slytherin boys. Though, most thirst after Riddle.”

_ Why does that sound familiar? _

_ “ _ Riddle? What does he have the others do not?”

“Good grades.” Augusta snorted.

“That and Tom at least carries himself as a humble individual. Not like Abraxas or the other boys…Just hope that if you ever run into any of them, you better hope it’s Tom Riddle since he’s the most civil and respectful out of them.” Augusta stopped talking as another girl entered the room, there being only three girls in sixth year.

“Well, goodnight Griffin, I hope you sleep well.” Augusta wished with a small, forced smile. She too, seemed quite stern like McGonagall, but not as much as their future selves.

_ Sleep well? How in Godric Gryffindor’s Sword am I supposed to accomplish such a task when someone just told me Tom Riddle, Lord Voldemort, is civil, respectful, and in the same building as I am! _

 


End file.
